Til Death do us part
by hermixne
Summary: When everyone was saying goodbye to Hermione’s body as it was lowered into the ground, Ron took the longest, sobbing silently into her chest whispering, “Hermione… Hermione… come back… please…” CompleteOne shot. Ron&Hermione romance.


I sat there and just stared. Poor mate. He didn't deserve all this pain. I watched him sit up slowly in bed a week after and just sit there. He stared out of the window as tears blurred his vision. He watched the sun slowly peek out, look around, then spread out its blanket of color and greet the world with such an enormous amount of energy that he no longer had. I listened as he yelled out. 

"How can you do this? How can you rise after this? You shine up there like there will always be a tomorrow. But there won't! Do you hear that? THERE WON'T!"

I watched as he pounded his fists on the bed shouting out: THERE WON'T BE A TOMORROW ALWAYS! THERE WON'T!

I felt like shouting with him, too.

"Maybe for you there will. You'll always get to shine. But-"

He paused and looked around, as if hoping she would pop out and jump on him, laughing and smiling. When no one came, he continued.

"But for h-her there wasn't! She d-didn't get a tomorrow! SHE DIDN'T! AND THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

I had to look away. I couldn't take it anymore. I heard him break down into sobs and I knew he probably had buried his face in his pillow, drenching it in tears of pain and remorse.

I heard the doorbell ring and I knew then that Harry had finally come. He always came every morning since she left. He had too or else I think Ron would go a bit loony. But I wouldn't blame him. She was such a joy, such a bright sun, a juicy orange, to have around the house.

I looked around at the other photos near me. Memories. Photos were useful. Capturing a moment very well. As they always say: A picture can say a thousand words. But for Ron, it says his life.

There was one of when he took Hermione to see a Quidditch Match. They were sitting in the highest row and what do you know? The snitch flew right into Ron's hand and Hermione snapped a picture of one bright and happy Ron holding the golden snitch. But that didn't have Hermione in it, so he rarely looked at it and smiled.

Another sat a bit away from me, but I can still make out what it is and who it is of. Ron and Hermione, walking in the park, holding hands, smiling laughing. I always hear him tell Harry about that day.

"We went to one grand park, mate. Huge! And we sat down on the maple bench. Hermione had a fit because I called it a marble bench then when she told me it's maple I took it as maple syrup and was about to bite into it. Of course she knew that I knew what she meant. Then she started to laugh, mate. I thought bells were ringing! Everyone was looking at us. Me about to bite into a bench and her laughing her head off. Then we shared an ice cream. I remember it was...it was banana caramel! Oh yes, banana caramel. One of her favorites. Must say it isn't that bad. After we finished the ice cream and drenched the maple bench in banana caramel ice cream, we left for a walk. And while we were walking-"

"She kissed you?" Harry would always ask just to be friendly even though he's heard the story a million times.

"Yup, right on the lips. Sweetest kiss I've ever had. In the park under the moonlight. She looked lovely that night," Ron told.

"I'm sure she did," Harry agreed.

And I would just stay there and listen because I wanted to hear the stories. I miss her, too.

Ron must have had three dozen pictures of Hermione in his room. He had a drawer of everything she had ever given him. He never told anyone about it. I accidentally-on-purpose found it when I was putting his laundrey away. His Chudley Cannon Boxers, his Eagle Tipped Quill, A movie stub from a Cinema show they went to together and if I wasn't mistaken, a small lock of Hermione's chestnut hair. Underneath all of this must have been every love letter that he had written to her… But never gave to her.

"SHE WAS ONLY 18!" I heard him yell from his room as I silently cried into my palms. "SHE WAS ONLY 18!"

Hermione's death had made the front page of The Daily Prophet.

"Hermone Grager, 18 years old, was murdered by

Bellatrix Lestrange last night in Hogsmeade Village.

Grager was on a trip provided by Hogwarts School

Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All Hogwarts students

Will be escorted home on the Hogwarts Express

Tomorrow at noon. Lestrange is rumored to be in

Line with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No leads

Onto where she is in current hideout."

They didn't even spell her name right… Ron had been with her right before it happened. She had wandered away from Harry and him evidentially right into Bellatrix's hideout. Hermione died a hero. At least, that's what we told Ron.

"This is how she would have wanted to die, Ron. She would have wanted to go at battle." Harry told him.

"NO!" Shouted Ron, throwing a vase across the room. "SHE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE AT ALL! She-she was o-only eighteen…."

Ron was in shock the next days after her death. He seemed to be under the impression that this was all a joke and that Hermione would jump out behind a curtain and it would all just be a sick horrible joke.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger held a Muggle funeral at the Church where Hermione was baptized. Ron didn't say a word that day. He seemed to have lost his voice. When everyone was saying goodbye to Hermione's body as it was lowered into the ground, Ron took the longest, sobbing silently into her chest whispering, "Hermione… Hermione… come back… please…"

I think that was when he really realized that she was gone. That she was really, truly, never come back.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm obligated, as his sister, to do or say something to make him feel better… But Mr. and Mrs. Granger seemed to be the only ones who knew how to do it.

"Ronald Weasley?" said Mrs. Granger as she approached him after the funeral. "This has your name on it. I found it… I found it in her room. I didn't open it… I don't know how… can't do magic… but I thought maybe you should. If you know how to."

She gave him a small slip of paper that was sealed by magic that read 'Ronald Weasley' in big red letters surrounded by hearts.

Ron pulled out his wand and muttered the counter charm to unseal it. Inside was a picture that Colin Creevy had snapped of Hermione kissing Ron right after Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup.

"RON!" She had squealed as she ran up to him and kissed him on the lips, wrapping her arms around him.

On the backside of the photo, it said in small, Hermione-like-handwriting, 'Someday, forever.'

Ron put this photo right next to his bed. He said he had always wanted to wake up next to Hermione. I guess this was going to be a substitution.

"The Picture." Is what he called it. He would talk about how The Picture meant that he and Hermione were going to get married one day. How they were always meant to be, together. He would also explain for the umpteenth time how he had finally realized his feelings for Hermione during the Yule Ball when she attended it with Krum.

Eventually, Ron took down all the photos and The Picture, and put them in his drawer with all his other Hermione stuff. Two years later, he got rid of the drawer and started dating, again. He found a particularly beautiful one named Geneveive with straight blonde hair and green eyes and no brain. In other words, she was exactly the opposite of Hermione…

Well, Ron married the idiot. He was never really happy. I visited their flat once; Ron had taken my wand by mistake. It was the opposite of everything that Ron had ever wanted. Everything was tidy and magenta and completely unnecessary. It was disgusting.

I went into Ron and Geneveive's room hoping to find my wand.

But in the first drawer I searched.

I found.

The Picture.

End – Please review.

AIM: Halos on my head


End file.
